Stop diagnosing yourself via WebMD and go pack my suitcase for me.

Time is literally crawling today.  Crawling like a small toddler who hasn't quite gotten the hang of things yet.  Unacceptable.  I spent my morning trying to solve a frustrating issue at work.  Then, I spent my lunch break on the phone with CVS Caremark trying to explain to them that they've messed up my prescriptions for the jabillionth time.  I'm so over them.  If they didn't control the distribution of my precious migraine drugs, we'd be having a nasty break up.  This CVS drama has been going on since October 1.  In case you're counting...that's a month and a half.  I want to punch a pharmacist in the face right about now.  Now I just have to make it through a little over 2-ish hours at work and then go home and race to finish packing so that Mommy Dearest and I can hit the road to Gatlinburg.  We are spending the weekend at at jewelry/accessories expo and then doing some outlet shopping.  Hopefully I will come home with some new pretties to show you!

I'm cranky.  I have things that I need/want to be doing right now, but I can't.  I probably should have done them last night but I was busy watching Grey's Anatomy, Private Practice, and playing with my iPad.  These are all valid activities, but that meant that I did not pack.

Here's another reason why I'm cranky.  I've been minding my own business today.  Out of the blue, I get a chat message from The Ex.  I haven't heard from him since he called to tell me Happy Birthday (the day before my birthday because he had plans on my actual birthday and, heaven forbid that I be an inconvenience).  I actually haven't even really realized that we haven't been speaking.  He sent me a message saying that he'd been in the ER today.  That sucks.  Why is he telling me?  Go call your girlfriend.

The Ex: Was in the ER today.

Moi: Are you ok?

The Ex:  I messed up my knee.  It's all torn on the inside.

Moi:  How did you hurt it?

The Ex: I don't know.

Moi:  You're in enough pain to need to go to the ER, and you don't know what you were doing when it happened??

The Ex: I worked out 2 weeks ago and it started hurting a week later and it was really hurting this morning.  I sleep in ball and it locked up and when I stood up this morning, it made all these cracking and popping and tearing noises.

Moi:  My knees always sound like that.

The Ex:  I need an MRI but no one will give me one.

Moi:  They aren't candy.  They don't just give them out.  You need a referral from a doctor and you have to schedule an appointment.

The Ex:  They did an X-ray but you can't see torn ligaments on it.

[Yes, genius.  You are correct.  BONES show up on X-rays, not muscles and ligaments.]

Moi:  I wouldn't jump to conclusions if I were you...

He's a hypochondriac.  Bless his heart, every time he gets sick, he thinks it's the plague and that he's going to die.  He is always looking up his symptoms on WebMD and that's never a good plan.  He called me one time (after we'd broken up) and told me he thought he had cancer.  He said that when he was in the shower, he found a lump on his man bits.  I tried to keep him calm and urged him to see a doctor if he really thought it was serious.  I told him that it was probably nothing and that it could just be a swollen lymph node or gland or maybe he just had bumpy bits.  He cried and argued and complained and moped.  He finally went to the doctor.  Here's literally how that went...

The Ex:  [Gulp.] So, Doctor...what is that lump on my testicle?

Doctor:  Um, son...that is your testicle.

The Ex:  Oh.  Okay.

I laugh every single time I think about that story.  Typical him.  However, there was one time I accused him of crying wolf and he was actually sick.  He had a bad case of Mono and an ear infection and got so dehydrated that he was admitted to the hospital overnight.  He used that one instance as basis for all of his medical woes and assumptions.  The guy was right once and got a big head about it.  Anyway, I feel bad that he's hurting, but why tell me now?  Thanks for randomly messaging me so that I will take pity on you.  Sorry that it didn't work this time.  Get well soon, but I kinda don't really care how soon that is.  Now I sound mean.  This is just the crankiness talking.  Kinda.  I'm sure he will update me later because he probably thinks I'm holding my breath.  I'm not.

Sending grouchy feelings your way,

A

To the Beat of Our Noisy Hearts

She said, "Pick up the phone

Cause I need to feel more alone

And your voice drives me crazy."

Some Mad Hope by Matt Nathanson {here}

I've developed a recent obsession with nail polish.  I've always been a fan, but I've spent a fair amount of time contemplating colors/shopping for colors/painting my nails in the past 2 weeks.  It's probably because I've discovered fabulous blogs like Vampy Varnish.  I have a tendency to chew on my nails (bad habit, I KNOW) so polish doesn't last too long.  Plus, my jewelry-making takes a toll on my nails as well.  Here is what I am currently sporting:

Lapis of Luxury {essie}

It's sort of a periwinkle color, which I like, because the word "periwinkle" makes me giggle.  Yes, I am almost 24 years old, thank you.  I realize it's probably more of a "springtime" color, but kiss my grits.  I like it.

In other crafty news, I had cause to break out the rubber cement and scrapbook paper last night.  One of my close friends from college, C(P)W is having a baby girl in December.  This Saturday is her baby shower and I wanted to add a personal touch to my gifts.  I bought her some cute receiving blankets (with elephants on them) off of her registry and a super cute book from Barnes and Noble, but I wasn't satisfied.  I decided to make this to adorn the nursery:

Forgive the cell phone picture.  This is an 8x10" frame with a 5x7" opening.  I couldn't go to a baby shower for C(P)W sans monogram!  Here in the good ole South, if you sit still long enough, you will get embroidered with initials in a fancy script.  True story.  So what do you think?  I'm pretty proud of it.  Not bad for homemade.

I'm especially excited about tonight.  I'm doing dinner and a movie with an old co-worker, Pearl Girl.  We've both been so busy lately that we haven't had a chance to spend time together in about a month.  That's just silly when we live in the same city!  Have no fear, it shall be remedied tonight.  We are chowing down on some Japanese food and then catching "Easy A."  I hope it's as good as the previews.  I need a good laugh...or 12.

I haven't talked to The Ex since my last post, hence proving my point that he only talks to me when he needs to get something off his chest or brag about his Flavor of the Week Girl.  Whatevs.  It's actually pleasant to not have his drama clogging my brain.  However, the Universe must have gotten wind of this and has replaced The Ex's drama with Creepy D's drama.  Who is Creepy D?  Let me tell you.  Many moons ago (approximately Summer 2006), I met Creepy D through a friend of the BFFAE's, Biker W.  It was a sketchtastic night, to say the least.  Biker W was a bouncer at a local bar, and somehow the BFFAE and I were friends with the bouncer crowd.  (Seemed like a good plan.)  Creepy D was his unfortunate sidekick.  What makes him so creepy, you ask?  Allow me to fill you in.  Creepy D is a bald man (by choice) with a very tiny head and glasses to cover his beady little eyes.  While he chooses to be hairless on the top of his head, he has a beard.  No, I don't understand it either.  I'm not shallow when it comes to how a fella looks, but I do have my preferences.  The first night I met him, Creepy D asked me on a date.  Here's how that went:

Creepy D: "Sooooo... We should go out sometime, ya know? I'm a pretty cool guy and you seem alright, too."

Me: [silence, pretending like I'm texting on my sweet Motorola Razr phone]

Creepy D: "I know the perfect place.  Bike Night at Hooters!"

Me: [stunned silence, Did he just ask me to go on a FIRST date to HOOTERS?!]

Creepy D: "I don't know if I mentioned this*, but I ride.  Bikes.  I ride bikes.  Like motorcycles.  No big deal.  I like to street race.  It's pretty hardcore.  And I like to have a hot chick on my bike, and I guess you'll do.  I love my bike." (*He'd mentioned it.  Like 100 times that night.)

Needless to say, I made up some excuse as to why I'm afraid of motorcycles, and I declined.  This did not remove him from my life.  Since we had mutual friends, we ended up running into each other fairly frequently.

[Fast forward.]  Creepy D is one of my friends now.  Not super close, but friends.  He dated a girl (we shall call her Shy M) for about a year.  Things got serious and he asked me to go ring shopping with him to pick her out something special for when he decided to propose.  He did not share my expensive taste.  

Creepy D: "There's no way I'm spending $1,000 on a stupid ring!  Got anything cheaper?"

The weekend of July 4, he popped the question and Shy M said yes.  Duh.  Well, to make an extremely long story short, they broke up because her parents didn't approve and she found a new man.  Creepy D can't handle this.  Thus, he calls/BBMs/texts/Facebooks me to talk about his feelings ALL THE FREAKING TIME!  MULTIPLE TIMES A DAY.  It's been 2 months.  I'm at my wit's end.  I have started "missing" his calls and BBMs and I'm suddenly always really busy.  Ok, I swear I'm not a bad person.  I'm just trying not to lose my patience and blow up at him.  I get it, he's distraught.  Been there, done that.  I talked to him for a few HOURS on the phone on Thursday night and listened to him tell me the same stories over and over again, and that's about as much as I can handle.  I inform him that I have a busy week ahead and that I won't be able to talk.  [hint, hint]  He doesn't get the hint.  He BBMs me to say "Hey" like 12 times and calls me at least 5 times by Monday.  And, since he didn't hear from me, he Facebooked my BFFAE to "check on me."  WTF?!  Then, he writes on my Facebook wall and asks me if I'm ok!  Seriously, I'm about to blow at this point.  Steam is coming out of my ears and my face is the color of a fire engine.  I look just like one of those cartoons full of rage.  I BBM him and say, as politely as possible, that I'M FREAKING BUSY AND I CAN'T TALK!  He still hasn't gotten the hint.  Lord, give me patience.

Kthanksbye,

A

Stupid Boy

"So what made you think you cold take a life

And just push it, push it around?

I guess to build yourself up so high

You had to take her and break her down."

Love, Pain & The Whole Stupid Thing by Keith Urban {here}

How can people be so completely self-absorbed and arrogant?  I don't get it.  Did their mothers not teach them manners?  Of course, I can answer that question in this particular situation: his mother did not teach him manners.  Who is he, you ask?  Those of you who know me probably can already guess, but for the sake of not calling him out directly, we will just call him The Ex.  I need to give you a brief background to explain my opening question about people being self-absorbed.

WARNING: If your time is valuable and/or you don't have the patience for a long-winded post, turn back now.

So it all started when I met The Ex in 2007 when I was on Fall Break in Scotland.  He was friends with the people I was traveling with, and we really hit it off.  The next day was my 21st birthday and he offered to take me and my friend (KG) out to celebrate.  It ended up being a great night and KG played match-maker and set us up.  But, as whirlwind "romances" go, it seemed that it would be short-lived.  I left Scotland the next day to continue traveling.  We kept in touch when I got back to Italy, and we got to the point where we talked everyday.  He even came to visit me 2 months later and stayed with me for a week.  That's when we made our relationship official.  We didn't have an easy road ahead of us.  Distance was a pretty big issue.  I'm a SC girl, but he lived in NY and went to college in VA. Ok, so I'll just drive to see him on weekends, no biggie.  He's Jewish, I'm Christian.  It didn't bother me at all, but it was a huge issue for his family.  Needless to say, they were my biggest fans.

[Fast forward.]  We dated all through my senior year of college and beyond.  I was heels over head in love, and I was told the feelings were mutual.  We had our fights, like every couple battling the Distance Monster, but we also had some great times.  Looking back on everything, I see it differently.  I realized something last night.  I know that I loved him, but I think I also felt like the relationship had to work.  I needed him to be The One.  I made excuses for his selfish behavior, his thoughtlessness, his absence, his family, and everything.  I rarely put myself first.  But I needed it to work, so I thought that's what I was supposed to do.  I guess I was tired of searching for The One, so clearly The Ex should fill that role.  I don't know, I guess I just didn't want to have to go through another painful break-up, and I guess I had Wedding Fever...I can't really explain it.  All I know is that I wasn't treated like I deserve to be and I excused it.  When we were together, things were generally great.  I genuinely enjoyed the trips to see him at college, despite the 7-hour drive one way.  My BFFAE said something to me once that stuck with me.  (I refused to believe it at the time, but looking back on it, she has a very good point.) You shouldn't have to make sacrifices for someone else if they aren't willing to make those same sacrifices for you.  Here's where that comes into play.  The Ex, as I told you, was Jewish, lived in NY, and was planning to work in the high-profile banking industry after graduation.  He made it clear to me that I would have to be the one to move if/when we took the relationship to the next level.  It made sense to me, because the banking industry isn't exactly booming down here in the South.  Plus, I like NY.  Maybe I could find a cool job and use my Bachelor of Arts Degree in Art History.  (Let's just ignore the fact that my entire family lives well below the Mason Dixon line and I would be moving entirely too far away from them.)  Here's the big kicker...I was told that IF I wanted a future with him, I'd have to convert to Judaism, and even then, I wouldn't be a "real" Jew, so his family would never really accept me.  Stupid me said I would cope.  I convinced myself that that was okay. I actually considered converting. (I had decided that I could convert, but still stay true to my Christian beliefs.  Not the best idea probably.)  What was I thinking?!  Why would I want to be part of a family that didn't like me?  Regardless of all of the negative factors, I was determined that The Ex was The One.  He came to visit me one weekend and, out of the blue, suggested we go look at engagement rings.  I was THRILLED!  He let me know that it wouldn't happen right away (which I knew) but he wanted to know what I liked.  

[Fast forward.]  The Ex graduated from college the year after I did, so I flew to VA for the weekend to see him graduate and finally meet his family in person.  (I'd met his Grandma and her boyfriend and I'd spoken to his Mom on the phone.)  His parents were civil-ish.  That's the best I can describe it.  I'd assumed that they would take us out to dinner the night before his graduation to celebrate this awesome achievement in his life.  I was wrong.  They went to dinner without us and I had to beg him to order a pizza for us so I didn't starve.  It was an uncomfortable weekend, to say the least.  After he graduated, he moved back home to NY and back into his parents' home.  They regained control over his life and gave him an ultimatum, which he ever-so-gently (note the sarcasm) delivered to me at 2am when I was on vacation with my Mom.  If he chose to continue the relationship, they planned to disown and disinherit him.  Clearly he chose them.  I still don't know how parents can do that to their children.  It was a completely heartbreaking experience and I was lost.  Looking back, that was the straw that broke the camel's back.  Our relationship wasn't perfect and his family was placing too much pressure on him and he just cracked.  And I suffered because of it.

[Fast forward.]  For some reason, I thought we should stay friends.  I guess I just didn't know how to remove him from my life.  Besides, the only contact we had was via Blackberry or text because he was all the way in NY and I was in SC.  The problem with this "friendship" was that he took advantage of it.  Still does.  He comes to me when he has problems, and I talk him through things and give him moral support.  He rarely returns the favor.  Somehow he's always busy when I need a friend.  I have called him out on this in several tearful, frustrating conversations, to which he half-heartedly apologizes and I begrudgingly "forgive" him.  Last night, this happened again.  I've been distancing myself from him recently.  We broke up on Memorial Day weekend in 2009 (yes, I realize how long ago that was), but I was still holding on to something that didn't really exist.  His birthday was Wednesday so I gave him a quick call to wish him a Happy Birthday before he headed off to dinner with his Flavor of the Week Girlfriend.  (He's dating someone new every time we talk so I don't bother to learn names anymore.  Although, this one does have the same name as the one before her...)  He thanked me for remembering and calling.  He texted me last night to see if I could talk so he could tell me about how the night went.  I couldn't talk at that moment, but I called him about 30 minutes later.  He went into way too much detail about the night and the new girl, to which I reminded him that I didn't care to know such things.  He told his whole story, told me he might be falling in love with her (gag me - they've been officially dating for a few weeks), and said he wanted to go to bed.  I asked if he planned on asking about my day/life and he said no.  I snapped and told him he was inconsiderate (but I wasn't quite so polite about it) and that he only cared about himself and that I didn't know why I was even surprised and that he's a bad friend and blah blah blah.  I'm so over it!  I just can't handle the stress he adds to my life when he does this.  We are capable of a nice, friendly conversation, but then he goes and pulls this garbage.  What keeps me attached to him?  Why do I give him that power over me?  To be clear, I'm really and truly over him, in the sense that I'm not still in love and hoping that one day he will wake up and realizes he still loves me.  I gave up that charade long ago.  I am no longer blind to his flaws.  I know that we are by no means right for each other, so that's not why I do this.  I guess I have issues with removing people from my life.  I am fairly quick to forgive and move on because I don't like conflict.  Maybe I'm a push-over?  I don't know.  Do I have a right to be angry with him (even though I've kept in touch and let him do this to me)?  Any thoughts? 

Thanks for reading this (if you made it past the first paragraph even).

Ciao,

A